Hannah navigates her kayak into the inky shadows alongside an abandoned dock. The sun rises above the horizon, its rays chasing away the night sky with beams of pink and lavender and yellow. At low tide, the stench of dead fish and decay assaults one’s nose, but having grown up on the island, Hannah is used to the odor. Oysters are visible on the banks of the marsh. Shrimp flitter across the water. And egrets poke their yellow bills in the mud. The occasional squawk of a bird is the only sound in an otherwise silent landscape. Hannah cherishes these fleeting moments as the inlet comes to life around her.
Taking in a deep breath, she steadies the telephoto lens and stills her body. She passes on the opportunity to shoot a blue heron fishing for minnows. Hannah has hundreds of such images stored on her hard drive. She’s holding out for the prime shot, the photograph that will get her more Instagram followers and result in paid downloads on the stock image websites. Such shots are few and far between. But today is her lucky day.
An osprey flies in from the right, his clawed feet landing gear as he glides across the water. Hannah presses the shutter as the osprey emerges with a wiggling mullet gripped between his claws. The osprey careens to the left and swoops back around, coming straight toward her. She holds the shutter down as the camera records the magnificent creature’s movement in a continuous stream of images as he flies over her head.
Lowering her camera, she calls out to the osprey, “Show off!” She tilts her head back and lets out a woo-hoo. She previews the images on her camera’s viewfinder. One, in particular, steals her breath. A shot of a lifetime. What a fabulous way to start her day.
Hannah paddles the kayak back down the creek to the floating dock at the town’s marina. She slides the kayak out of the water and hoists it onto the storage rack. Slinging her waterproof camera bag over her shoulder, she hurries up the ramp to the boardwalk. She increases her pace to a jog as she passes Shaggy’s, her favorite Lowcountry seafood restaurant, and the Island Bakery, the coffee shop and cafe her mom owns and operates. She bypasses the front door—the bakery doesn’t open until nine—and rounds the corner of the two-story brick building, cutting through the back alley to the rear entrance.
Inside the coatroom—an oversized closet with wooden lockers for cafe employees—she kicks off her wet Crocs and hangs her camera bag on her designated wall hook.
“Morning, Mom!” she calls out to Birdie in the adjacent kitchen before taking the stairs two at a time to their second-floor apartment. Waking Gus from his sweet dreams is the highlight of her day. When he blinks his pale blue eyes open and sees her, Hannah’s heart melts as dimples appear in his chubby cheeks.
But today, when she enters their bedroom, his tattered stuffed alligator, Atticus, is alone in his toddler bed.
In a singsong tone, she calls, “Gus, it’s time to get ready for school.” She goes into the bathroom that connects their bedroom to her mom’s. “Gus! Where are you? Are you hiding from me? This isn’t funny, buddy. You’re scaring mommy.”
With a racing heart, she conducts a quick but thorough search of the tiny apartment before flying back down the stairs to the kitchen.
“Mom! Where’s Gus? He’s not upstairs.”
Birdie looks up from the commercial-size mixer. “What do you mean? He was sleeping when I came down a half hour ago.”
“Well, he’s not there now.” Panic gripping her chest, Hannah passes through the kitchen to the cafe. Birdie follows on her heels, and when there’s still no sign of Gus, Hannah whips out her phone. “I’m calling the police.”
